An Italian Walks into a Bar: The CEDEF Arc
by Tsukiko Yamada
Summary: Tsuna's life has always been far from normal. As if restoring the Arcobaleno, breaking a one-thousand-year-old curse, defeating Checkerface, and perhaps saving the world wasn't enough. Now, when the fate of CEDEF rests in the hands of corrupt, evil Canadians, Tsuna must once again confide in his friends to rescue his comrades from death row. Set two years post-manga.
1. Daily Life, Interrupted

In the two years since the Arcobaleno were - well, no longer Arcobaleno, Sawada Tsunayoshi had never been more relaxed in his life. Since Reborn unexpectedly took off one week ago, he had been able to lead as close to a normal life as he was capable of having. The home tutor hitman had left behind only a note. _Oi, stupid Tsuna, I'm taking a break from your dumbass antics, but I'm still watching. _That was all_._ At this point Tsuna wasn't sure if he'd actually be watching him, but knowing Reborn, he probably had a way. It was so like him.

Whatever. It's not like he was going to complain. Since Reborn came into his life it had been one clash after another. Now that the infant mafioso had left, Tsuna could finally chill. Or so he thought. He opened the windows of his bedroom, as the sunlight shone in his eyes and the morning wind caressed his tired face. He had just woken up; it had been a long night, after Lambo caused a scene at the Takoyaki stand. Let's just say more than one grenade was involved, and there was grape candy. Lots and lots of grape candy.

Of course, he wasn't entirely to blame. Perhaps, if he hadn't left Lambo to his own devices as he thought he could, then maybe he could have avoided having to frantically find all the grenades before they randomly detonated and took parts of the city with it. Good thing he did, too, or Hibari-san would have had his head. Or worse, he would have been "bitten to death". It had been more than five years, and though Tsuna was long used to the carnivore's odd catchphrase, he has yet to understand what that actually entitled his Cloud guardian to. It didn't matter, anyway. Between Hibari's menacing _Kamikorosu_ and Gokudera's explosive temper, pun wholly intended, Tsuna considered himself a dead man walking.

Tsuna sighed as he leaned forward on the windowsill. Closing his eyes, he felt the sun's warmth bask his face. '_I need moments like this more often_,' he thought to himself. '_Moments to myself.' _Clearly, the Vongola had other plans for him, but he would worry about being a mafia boss later. For now, his thoughts raced back to Reborn. Why had he left? Knowing him, he wouldn't have decided to leave out of the blue, and certainly not when he knew Reborn would never have taken a vacation if there was training to be done. Reborn would never miss an opportunity torturing him in the guise of one of his often fatal Spartan-like training exercises. Not even on his death bed.

So what had called the ex-Arcobaleno to leave his post? Tsuna's mind raced as he considered the possibilities. Was there some sort of emergency? Was he in some sort of danger? Did Reborn decide enough was enough? Tsuna quietly chuckled at the latter (though a part of him foolishly hoped that was the case), before his mind turned back to Reborn. He was a world-class hitman, as he often so shamelessly proclaimed. Surely Tsuna wasn't his only priority. Regardless, he couldn't help but wonder.

-x-

Basil sauntered down the paved bricks of Italy, school bag slung over one shoulder (It was only a cover, of course, but it had to be done). He turned down the block, and looked over his shoulder, before swiftly ducking into an alleyway. Basil treaded carefully around dusty garbage bags and broken glass, before he found an abandoned door. He trudged up the steps, and stopped at the rusted door, barely visible from the shadows of the sunrise, and well hidden in the dark alley. _Way too early,_ he thought.

He stuck his hand in his coat pocket, and dug around until he fished out his school ID. (This, too, was an obvious lie, but moving on.) He gently peeled off the plastic concealer cleverly plastered atop the card, revealing his Clearance key issued by the boss of the Second Vongola. _'Consulenza Esterna Della Famiglia'_. The delicately carved words shone proudly in gold script. Basil's eyes fell upon the Family's emblem neatly printed below its grand title, before sliding it through the door's rusty lock. '_Pity_,' he thought, '_that I must be the one to use the back door_.' He heard a soft _click_, and pulled on the metal door until it gave way. '_Master had his reasons_,' he mused, entering the building. '_Anyway, it would be rather unusual for a child to enter a business building on a regular basis_,' he reasoned. He could hear the door's _click_, as he shut the door firmly behind him.

As he did everyday, Basil found himself in a cluttered supply closet. Kneeling in the dark, he felt the ground until he located the trapdoor leading him through various tunnels. He carefully descended the ladder, and once he reached the bottom Basil made his way through the building's underground level. He could hear the faint sound of footsteps above him, a sure sign of officers hard at work. The murmuring voices, it seemed, were replaced by almost distinct voices that even Basil could hear feet below the floor. '_There seem to be more up there than usual_,' he noted, before ascending a final flight of stairs that ultimately cut through the vast majority of CEDEF. Eventually, he would arrive at the very heart of CEDEF's headquarters: the offices of CEDEF's elite advisors to the Vongola, himself included. This is what he did everyday.

It could have been just an average day at the office, just like every other day, but something wasn't right. Maybe, it was that there were more than three people in the executive offices of the Family's inner quarters, way more than there should be. Maybe, it was that his boss, surrounded by men clad in black, was led out of his own office in chains. Maybe, it was Lal-dono, Oregano-dono, and Turmeric-dono following Master, hands cuffed behind their backs, their faces grim. Maybe, it was the feeling of an overwhelming, ominous presence looming in the air. Maybe, it was that when he began to stumble in their direction, too shocked to speak, he found the Vindice - a sight he never expected (nor wanted) to see again - standing outside the executive offices, chains in hand. Or maybe, it was the sight of Sawada Iemitsu forced to kneel outside his own office, bowing his head, while the mangled guardian locked the chain into place as the cuffs were placed around his neck.

-x-

-x-

**Hello! Thank you for reading chapter one of my first fic! Your kind support means a lot to me!**

**- Kouhai**

**SENPAI is my lovely and delicious beta; please go to my profile to check her out!**


	2. Disaster Strikes Namimori

_...I...I must...warn...Sawada-dono..._

Basil bolted. By this time, a crowd had begun to stir. As soon as he caught Lal's eye from behind the crowd, he knew what he had to do. Well, he didn't know _exactly _what he had to do. He just knows that he is needed, and he must - once again - contribute to the mission the fullest extent of his abilities. Only he would have been able to understand the look in her eyes. Only he, after years of fighting side by side with his friends, would have been able to catch the subtle nod, while the crowd fixed their widened eyes on the Vongola's Chief External Advisor, surrounded by the ominous presence of the Vindice. And once he saw that nod, he darted past the onlookers, past the alleyway, and up the block he came. Basil figured since he could be considered one of the elite advisors, there was a big chance that he too, could be at risk. _'Though for what?'_ he thought.

Before turning the block he glanced back once more at the kneeling figures. _'I don't know what's going on right now_,_' _he thought, _'but I will come back for you, Master. For all of you.'_

And with that, he ran.

-x-

It was a quiet, uneventful afternoon. Tsuna was helping Yamamoto Takeshi prepare for the Namimori district baseball tournament, while Gokudera Hayato decided to tag along, if only to please his boss. The three decided to warm up before Yamamoto decided he wanted to improve his swings. _'What, with Reborn gone and all,' _Tsuna thought, _'I actually don't have to worry about dying or getting stripped down to my underwear or something.' _He shuddered at the thought.

"Tsuna, catch!"

Yamamoto threw the baseball in Tsuna's direction. Tsuna snapped out of his thoughts, sluggishly running to catch the ball. Though, he never really was good at this sort of thing. He just accepted that baseball was just not his forte, and it never was going to be. Today, however, he was distracted, barely paying attention to Gokudera's "Juudaime!". He came to a halt as the ball nearly hit him at what he guessed was a winding 130 miles per hour.

"Aw, Tsuna, you missed!" Yamamoto laughed lightheartedly, swinging the bat over his shoulder.

Tsuna turned to return his smile. "I guess I'll never be as good as you are, Yamamoto!" he replied, laughing nervously. He decided to ignore the unusual feeling he was having for now. Tsuna knew this feeling; it was a feeling he knew only occurred when something was wrong. Though, he wanted to believe nothing was wrong now, and he wanted to enjoy the beautiful afternoon - a rare occurrence - while it lasted.

"I wouldn't bet even five yen on this baseball idiot to win, anyways," Gokudera annoyance was made evidently clear in his voice as he made his way over. He snarled, as Yamamoto could always expect, "Juudaime, we shouldn't even waste our-".

Gokudera stopped abruptly, seeing Tsuna's pained expression. "Ju-Juudaime! Is there something wrong?"

Tsuna hadn't even realized the obviously uneasy expression on his face. That gut feeling remained, and he knew from past experiences that trusting his gut feeling, or his "Hyper Intuition", as Reborn had called it. Whatever the case, he knew following that intuition had saved his life more than once in the future. _'But I don't even know what could happen right now,'_ Tsuna thought, _'If anything, this day has been the most uneventful I've had in years.'_

He forced a smile as he turned to answer Gokudera. "A-Ah, Gokudera-kun, nothing is wrong! I-I've just been tired lately, what with school and…" His voice trailed off, before he decided to ask, "Actually, I was wondering if you have seen Reborn at all. He left so suddenly...and left behind only a note. Did he say anything to you at all?"

Gokudera looked surprised. "Why, no, Juudaime, I haven't seen Reborn-san around at all. Did he say where he was going?"

"N-No, he did not." Tsuna turned. "Yamamoto, perhaps you heard from Reborn? Saw him, maybe?"

Yamamoto shook his head. "Sorry, Tsuna, I haven't seen the baby for about a week."

Tsuna smiled at his two friends, before returning to his thoughts. '_Why do I feel so tense?' _he thought to himself. _'Did something happen?'_

"What's up, Tsuna? You seem really confused right now," Yamamoto laughed, while Gokudera muttered under his breath, to the tune of '_Baseball Moron'._

Tsuna looked at him. "Not exactly, Yamamoto. I-I just feel...uneasy, that's all."

"J-Juudaime! If the Tenth feels this way, it could only mean something bad is about to happen!" He turned to Yamamoto, his face bearing a panicked expression. "That's what it always means!"

"Maa, maa," Yamamoto smiled, raising his hands in defense, though even his face expressed concern. "I think you all need to calm do-."

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, BASEBALL IDIOT!"

Tsuna decided to step in between the two guardians before things got any further. "A-Ah, Gokudera-kun, it doesn't have to always be bad, right? Ahahaha…" Tsuna trailed off nervously. Really, did everything he experience have to symbolize some bad omen? _'Though, I do remember this feeling before, and something bad did happen.' _ he thought to himself. Aloud, he spoke, "Well, Gokudera-kun, Yamamoto, nothing bad seems to be happening now, right? Why don't we come to my house for some lunch? I think my mom's making rice balls this time." He was eager to change the subject, if not to ease the tension.

"Riceballs! One of my all-time favorites!" Yamamoto exclaimed, while Gokudera just shook his head in an exasperated manner. Tsuna just smiled, his worried feelings subsiding for the moment.

Tsuna left the park, followed by Gokudera-kun and Yamamoto. He noticed a red car parked alongside the entrance, before turning the block home. Along the way they made chatter, slightly exhausted by the afternoon's baseball practice, and incredibly hungry. Gokudera's phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.

"Unknown number…" he said to himself, before stopping to pick it up. "Hello?" he answered in a gruff voice. Gokudera stood still, straining to listen to the person on the other end. "Can't hear a damn thing," he muttered. "Bad reception."

"H-hello…?" he tried to interrupt, his voice taking on a more pleasant tone, but to no avail. He turned to the two, waving his hand as if to say '_You guys go on. This may take a while,'_ with an apologetic smile. Tsuna and Yamamoto smiled and nodded understandingly and continued on home. Gokudera turned back to his phone, plugging his other ear so he could hear.

Meanwhile up the road, Tsuna and Yamamoto were talking, stopping to laugh as they heard Gokudera yell, "WILL YOU SHUT UP AND STOP STUTTERING LIKE A GODDAMNED IDIOT?!"

"So, Yamamoto, what do you think held up Gokudera back there?" Tsuna asked.

"Oh, that? I have no idea! It must have been pretty important, for even Gokudera to wave you aside."

"Yeah," Tsuna answered, more to himself than Yamamoto. "Important." His gut feeling returned to him. Why this tense feeling?

"O-Oh, Tsuna!" Yamamoto exclaimed, "I forgot to leave my baseball bat back at my house. I certainly wouldn't want to leave it at your house again." He paused and scratched his head. "Sorry, but would you mind if I make a quick run to the sushi bar? I'll meet you for lunch in about, say, five minutes?"

Tsuna smiled. "Of course, Yamamoto. Take your time. I'll...see you later, then?"

"Yup!" Yamamoto chirped, before taking off.

Tsuna walked on alone as he turned the final corner to his home. He waited for the cars to pass, and was about to step across the street when he perked up. _'Someone is behind me_,_'_ he thought, before whipping around to find a single person behind him.

The mysterious individual, Tsuna could note, was quite tall, donning a black suit, and an orange-striped fedora casting a shadow on his face. _'Wait, fedora? Could that be…?'_ The man tilted his face slightly upward, and Tsuna could see a rather familiar smirk on his lean face, as if he had seen that same smirk countless times before. Before Tsuna could say something, the man's smirk widened into an almost sadistic grin as he pulled a pistol out from inside his coat. Tsuna's eyes widened. _'Something's wrong,'_ he thought.

Tsuna couldn't quite fathom what had happened after that; it had happened so fast. The incredible speed at which the man whipped out his gleaming toy startled him. The person yelling his name at the top of his lungs as he heard footsteps getting closer confused him. Tsuna's eyes shifted as his proclaimed right-hand man came out of nowhere and shoved his body in front of his predestined boss.

He froze as they both heard three loud bangs - gunshots, he realized. A large blast took the two off their feet, and Tsuna was hit with an immense wave of heat and wind as he flew backwards into the pavement. He heard something so loud that seconds after, his ears rang for many minutes before they faded into silence, leaving behind a reverberation of throbbing pain.

He could only lay there, numbness washing through him, as Gokudera fell against him, his arms spread out in both directions so to protect him, as only a faithful right-hand man would, and Tsuna could only watch in horror as Gokudera's blood rapidly seeped onto the pavement. Tsuna tried to speak as he attempted to catch Gokudera with trembling hands, tried to call his name, but no words would come out. As he rolled his head to the side, he could see two, three, four blurry figures get bigger and bigger as they came closer, all screaming their names. As Tsuna reached his hand out to them on the pavement, his hand was only covered in more red.

Even minutes after, when the paramedics arrived and the voices of people screaming were drowned out by blaring sirens, Tsuna still saw red as he was wheeled away. Flashing red. Crimson red. Storm red. Even while he blinked, all he could see was red.

And if one could, in that moment, stop in the midst of chaos to look in the distance, one would have been able to see the tailpipe of the car turn around the corner and disappear, hearing its tires screeching as it sped off, and leaving dust in its wake.

And just like that, the peace returned and with it a quiet afternoon, almost as if nothing had happened at all.

-x-

-x-

**You have now successfully read the second chapter, and I thank you for your kind support to get me to this point. **

**- Kouhai**

**I once again credit SENPAI for her lovely work and dedicated time to improve upon this chapter; check her link out by visiting my profile! **


	3. Old Uncle Peter

Haru couldn't move her eyes away from the red-lit letters that read 'IN OPERATION', blinking over and over. She wrung her hands tightly as she fidgeted in the uncomfortable plastic chair. As she glanced over at the others, she noted the others were just as nervous as she. Sitting beside her, Kyoko remained silent, hands trembling as they clasped together. Across from her, Yamamoto leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as he crossed his arms and took a deep breath. Ryohei paced anxiously back and forth between the three, more silent than he had ever been in his entire life.

Tsuna and Gokudera had been in surgery for nearly three hours. The surgeons gave no consolation except that they would "try their hardest". As the clocked ticked, the situation seemed more and more desolate, and less hopeful.

The doors to the ICU slammed open, and the four looked up in astonishment at the young boy who had arrived.

Basil-kun stepped into the hallway, looking confused and slightly out of breath. "Bianchi-dono had told me that I would find you here. Though," he paused as he gestured to the hallway, "What business dost thou haveth here?"

Yamamoto grew quiet. Haru bowed her head while Kyoko remained silent. Ryohei had stopped pacing, but had turned away so Basil could not see his face. The question hung in the air for a moment, before Yamamoto chose to answer, "O-oh, well, Tsuna and Gokudera are...in surgery."

Basil was taken aback. "Wh-what?! Yamamoto-dono, is what thou speaketh the truth?"

"Oi! I'd wish that wasn't the truth!" Ryohei interrupted before Yamamoto could answer, suddenly turning to face him. Basil was dumbfounded, guilt spreading through him like rapid wildfire. He had come so far to warn Sawada-dono of a terrible crisis, only to walk straight into another one? He stumbled against the wall, and slowly slid down.

The tensed silence was interrupted by the sound of rushing footsteps. Kyoko and the guardians glanced up as Haru turned around to find Enma Kozato barging through the doors of the ICU, panting heavily.

"...I…" Enma stopped to catch his breath. "I heard what happened. Is Tsuna-"

"Tsuna-kun and Gokudera-kun have been in surgery since we got here. The doctors aren't telling us anything," Kyoko said sharply and shortly, too overcome with emotion. It was the first time Kyoko had spoken, perhaps to save Yamamoto from having to answer such a difficult question a second time.

Around twenty minutes later the doors opened, and the familiar yet masked face of Dr. Shamal appeared from the room. Dripping in sweat, he rubbed his weary eyes. Shamal peeled off the surgeon mask that had clung to his face, running a hand through his damp, matted hair. "Well, that took much longer than expected," he sighed, "but we were able to get him in a stable condition. The boy's going to make it," he added upon seeing Nana's pained anticipation.

"Wait, 'the boy'? Who are you talking about?" Enma asked.

"The Decimo kid. He's gonna make it," Shamal stated flatly.

The atmosphere, Shamal noted, lightened considerably. The crowd heaved sighs of relief, and Basil broke into a smile of appreciation as he thanked Shamal for his servitude to the Vongola boss-to-be.

"B-but, what about Gokudera?" Yamamoto disrupted the lightened atmosphere. Everyone fell silent as Shamal answered in a neutral tone, "We're working on him. We don't know anything yet."

"W-what?! You don't know about Hayato?!" Ryohei boomed, raising his fists in objection.

"Yeah, is Gokudera…is he going to…?" Yamamoto couldn't bring himself to ask.

Shamal only shook his head. "As the nurses probably told you, the surgeons will do their best, but we…" he trailed off as he turned back towards the operation doors, "We're working on him, and that's all we can tell you," he answered curtly, before pushing open the operation doors, snapping the latex gloves over his hands. Yamamoto stared at the doors flapping back and forth, his eyes widening in fear.

"The octopus-head's stronger than that, you know," Ryohei reminded him after a pause, "He won't let us down."

"He's right! That idiot will return to us, just like Tsuna-san!" Haru chirped.

Yamamoto stared at them for a moment before breaking into a smile. "You guys are right. Gokudera will be okay!"

Nevertheless, he couldn't resist looking back at the operation doors. _'Gokudera,' _he mentally pleaded.

'_Please be alright.'_

-x-

"Yo, the preparations ready?" Ganauche called out to the party planners in the large ballroom.

When he received an affirmative nod from the group's leader, he pulled out a bottle of _Chateau Lafite_, and flicked the cork off with his thumb. After taking a swift gulp, he laughed. "Well, then let the party begin!" He stretched out his arms toward the ceiling. "Hallelujah!" he boomed.

The doors to the grand room opened, and the all-too-familiar Ninth walked in. Looking around the room, he gave the younger man an exasperated look. "Ganauche, are you planning _another_ party?"

"...Maybe..."

"Ganauche! That's the third time this _week._"

"Er, it's not what it looks like this time, promise!"

Timoteo rolled his eyes. "Really?Then what _does_ it look like, Ganauche? You might be my Lightning Guardian, but even I have limits on how many times you can use the ballroom for your childish endeavors."

"It's uh," Ganauche shifted his eyes nervously, searching for an answer, "A fundraiser."

"...A _fundraiser_?"

"Y-yeah! A charity event!"

"Since when does the _mafia _host chari-"

Before Timoteo could ask, the doors burst open, and hundreds of well-dressed men and women trampled into the ballroom, all laughing and chattering excitedly as they began to occupy the hall.

Timoteo stood agape. "Ganauche," he said between clenched teeth. "Wha-_who_ are all these people?"

Ganauche sheepishly grinned, "I, uh, might have invited a few people to attend this, er, lovely charity event."

"A _few _people?! Ga_nau_che!" Timoteo threw his hands up in disgust.

"Hey, hey, relax! Remember, they're all here because they need to unwind. C'mon, being in the mafia's no easy job. Don't you see, I'm helping them all!"

"Ah, yes, to my liquor cabinet."

"I, uh-hey, is that who I think it is?" Ganauche suddenly pointing behind his boss, hoping to divert the man's attention.

Timoteo crossed his arms. "You can't fool me thrice, Ganauche."

"No, I'm serious!" he exclaimed, turning full focus on the door.

"Ciaossu," a voice behind the two called. Timoteo turned around to find a smirking Reborn looking up at him.

"Reborn! My, how you've grown since I've last seen you!" Timoteo grinned.

"You seem to be busy at the moment," Reborn said, a look of amusement on his face.

"I don't even care anymore," Timoteo sighed. "Ganauche, please don't wreck anything this time, I'm begging you."

Ganauche gave a half-hearted salute. "Roger!"

Timoteo turned to Reborn. "Well, it's good to have you back."

"Good to be back, Timoteo," Reborn smirked. "I have several important matters to discuss with you."

"How awfully shrewd of you. Is this how you greet an old friend?"

"An espresso would be nice. Black, hold the sugar. I like it stirred, not shaken."

'_Who shakes his coffee?'_ Timoteo thought. Aloud he chuckled, "Now, that's the Reborn I know."

Five minutes and two cups of coffee later Reborn and Timoteo were alone in two chairs in the latter's well-kept, and much more quiet, office. Sipping the bitter espresso silently, each reminisced in his own thoughts. Finally, Reborn went straight to the point.

"Timoteo," Reborn began, "Something big is going to happen." He carefully took a sip from the mug. "I haven't felt such anxiousness since the incident with Checkerface."

The Ninth looked at him. "Ah, and we all know what happens when our greatest hitman gets anxious," he smiled weakly. He placed his cup on the coffee table in front of him. "What could be on your mind, old friend?"

"I'm sure you may have heard what has happened to the External Advisors. From what I've heard, their arrests had something to do with a mission gone wrong."

Timoteo's face darkened as he squinted suspiciously. "CEDEF's methods of gathering intelligences have certainly not always been legitimate throughout the years," he mused, "but Iemitsu is always extremely careful when dealing with sensitive matters. Reborn, what do you make of this?"

Silence.

"Reborn?"

"The Vindice were indiscreet with apprehending Iemitsu; they might as well have made it public. Why did they do so in such a manner? It's completely unlike them to expose themselves so."

"Have there been similar incidents?"

Reborn looked at him. "I'm currently looking into that, as well as any sign that can help me discern a motive, but as of late, nothing's turned up."

The two mafioso drifted into silence. Reborn stared into his coffee cup. His sources couldn't produce any results, and he hadn't had contact with Iemitsu, nor the other three advisors, since their arrests. None of his legal confidantes had anything to say about the recent occurrences. The Vindice sure weren't going to say anything.

"I still don't understand why they arrested Lal, Oregano, and Turmeric. They aren't nearly as significant as Iemitsu; why them?" Timoteo pondered.

"Hm. Iemitsu confides in them missions of confidentiality; they _are _his closest advisors, after all. Lal and the others could hold privileged information. The Vindice don't take risks, Timoteo."

"Regardless, it wouldn't be smart to call assumptions. We don't know their true intentions," the Ninth concluded. "Do we at least know _what_ mission has 'gone wrong'?"

"We haven't been granted contact of any sort with the CEDEF offices or the Vendicare Penitentiary."

Their conversation was interrupted by a polite, yet rushed, knocking at the door. "You may come in," the Ninth called to the door. A young man burst into the room, panting loudly as he outstretched his arm to reveal a small black cellphone.

"The...there is a phone call…" the man huffed, "for Mr. Reborn."

Squinting suspiciously, Reborn took the phone from the man. He put the phone to his ear.

"Reborn here."

"Re-Reborn-dono!"

"...Basil?"

"Reborn-dono, I called to inform you of an urgent matter."

Basil explained what had happened upon his arrival in Namimori. Reborn listened as he excitedly hurried through the events that took place, slowing down when he arrived at the conclusion.

"Thus, Sawada-dono and Hayato-dono are both in the ICU; Sawada-dono, Dr. Shamal reported, reached stability. As for, well," Basil's voice faltered. "Hayato-dono's status is inconclusive."

Reborn didn't speak.

"Re-Reborn-dono? I…I don't know what to do. Nana-dono has been crying for hou-"

"Nana's at the hospital?" Reborn interrupted.

"Yes, thou hast been waiting here since they have been admitted."

Reborn fell quiet, before he replied curtly, "I'm on my way," slamming the phone shut. He stood up and placed his cup on the coffee table.

The Ninth looked alarmed. "What's this about a hospital?"

"Timoteo, I will continue to look into the CEDEF's arrest, but as of now, a crisis has arisen, and I have been summoned. My student needs me."

Shocked, Timoteo shook his head in disbelief. "One crisis after another."

"I'll be on my way, then," Reborn started towards the door, casting a glance behind him. "It's been a pleasure, Vongola Nono."

The Ninth smiled. "Likewise."

Reborn closed the door behind him and walked down the hall when he felt a presence. A voice sounded behind him. Gun at the ready, he quickly spun around only to be met with darkness.

"Oi, so you do know what's going on, kora."

Recognizing the voice and the familiar catchphrase Reborn eased his posture, but he kept his gun raised. "Colonnello," he promptly addressed.

"_And_ as usual, you didn't bother telling anyone else." Arms crossed, Colonnello stepped out of the shadows. Reborn lowered the gun. "Is what I hear true? All these things about the CEDEF getting arrested; _Lal _getting arrested? What the _hell_ is going on?"

"Don't ask me; I probably know just as much as you do."

"I just heard you talk with the Ninth." Colonnello's voice began to rise.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to eavesdrop?"

"Oi! You think this is all a joke, but if word on the street is true, Lal's headed for the axe!" Colonnello was shouting now, his blue eyes glaring.

"Oh, my. That's not _my_ problem."

"You son of a _bitc-"_

"Oi," Reborn interjected, "why don't you shut up and listen then?"

The blonde simmered down, though his face looked annoyed. "Fine. The hell's going on, kora?"

"Well, if you had impolitely listened to the entire conversation I had with the Ninth, then you more or less know what's going on. As to why, I don't know yet."

"...And the phone call?"

"Oh, that," Reborn's face bore a grim expression, "a situation has arisen in Namimori. You should probably come too."

"But what about the CEDEF's conflicts here, kora?"

"We will accomplish nothing by staying here. No one's going to talk, and frankly the two of us will be of more use in Namimori. Besides, I feel these two incidents are connected somehow. In fact, I just thought of someone who could help shed light on this."

"If anything happens to her..." Colonello snarled.

"Look, your girlfriend isn't going _anywhere_ unless _you_ get a move on." Reborn looked annoyed. "But, if you still don't _want_ to come..."

"Alright, _alright_, I'll tag along, kora. It's not like you'll tell me more otherwise."

Reborn smirked. "I'll debrief you on the way."

-x-

An old, gray-haired man was standing at the window behind his desk, looking over his courtyard. He took a puff of the cigar he had in his mouth. It was getting colder again; the snowflakes were beginning to dot the glass, and he could see from afar, the national flag waving rapidly in the distance. The wind was starting to pick up. He sighed and puffed another cloud of smoke. Montreal, he thought, was a cold place to run a family.

A knock at the door prompted the man to turn around, taking the cigar out of his mouth. "Come in," he called.

The doors opened, and a young brunet with thin glasses entered with a black box in his hands. "Signor Vito," the newcomer addressed, bowing slightly to the man behind the desk.

Vito waved him lazily aside. "Bah! Drop the formalities, Gerlando. You know that there isn't any need for that."

"But Signor-"

"_Vito."_

"Vito, then. I suppose after my long trip, you could be so kind as to treat your new _consigliere_ to coffee?" Gerlando shifted the weight of the box in his hands as he made his way over to Vito's desk. Coming closer, Vito could see that the box was a small black safe.

Noticing Vito eyeing the box suspiciously, Gerlando smirked. "The folks back home tell me to give you their respects. They ask me to bring you a special gift for your troubles. They expect some compensation for their troubles, though." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Our _Cosa Nostra_ went to great lengths to bring this to you."

Vito chuckled, putting the cigar back into his mouth. "The next time you go, give them my thanks. You can just leave it on the desk."

Gerlando did as he was told. "You seem confident in that I'll have to go back _again._"

"Why? Italy too warm for you?"

"Nah, boss, I think Canada's too _cold_. Why Signor Nicola chose Montreal to run a goddamn family is beyond me."

Vito chuckled. "My old man's an interesting fellow."

"Ah! I had forgotten to tell you that our fellow associates in Japan bring forth good news."

At the word 'Japan', Vito took the cigar out of his mouth slowly, and held it between his fingers. "Yeah? What happened down in Japan?"

'_Playing dumb, are you now?'_ Gerlando thought.

"Someone blew off the Vongola's Tenth; he's now in the ICU with severe head injuries and first-degree burns. However, no one expected the other casualty," the young man reported.

"The other casualty?"

"Gokudera Hayato. He shoved himself in front of his boss at the moment. He, too, is in the hospital." Gerlando looked at him. "I hear he's in even worse condition than the Tenth."

At this point, Vito had turned away to face the window behind his desk as he had been. He exhaled a puff of smoke, and said nothing for a while.

Finally, he chuckled, and turned around to face Gerlando. "Well, isn't that a shame!" He grinned. "He's just like our ol' Uncle Peter ain't he?"

"Indeed he is, Vito!" Gerlando replied, forcing jovial laughter as he ran a hand through his brown hair, sweat beginning to dot the _consigliere's _head.

"Don't start laughing yet," Vito's voice suddenly darkened, taking Gerlando by surprise. "We have much work to do, and don't you forget that."

"I-I'm not quite sure what you mean...?"

"When will you leave for Italy?_"_

"Hmm...if our preparations continue as scheduled, I should leave again tonight."

"I'm coming with you."

"And yes, I'll-wait, what?"

"I said," Vito repeated slowly, "I am coming with you. We will go to Italy, and wait."

"I-Wait for _what_, Signore?"

Vito smirked, the cigar rolling in his mouth. "Wait for Lady Luck to roll out my lucky seven," he said almost to himself, as if he had suddenly remembered something.

"L-lucky seven, you say?"

"Ah!" he snapped to, "You're still too young, lad." Vito laughed lightheartedly, waving his hand lazily as if to dismiss the matter.

He looked at his new _consigliere_. "Come on, Gerlando, those creased eyebrows don't suit us Italian folk. Now, you have work you need to do, don't you?"

Gerlando snapped to. "O-oh, right! I'll, um, get back to work. I just wanted to tell you the news."

Vito smiled. "Very well. I'll see you soon, and it will be a pleasure working with you."

As Gerlando made his way out, Vito called out after him, "And don't tire yourself! I certainly don't want worn down men!"

Once he left Gerlando pulled his cellphone from his pocket, and checked the time. 9:30 A.M. He did some calculating in his head, and figured if he was lucky, he could make it back to Italy before nightfall.

-x-

_Drip. Drip._

Lal Mirch observed silently as the growing puddle in the corner of the musty, dark cell began to spread across the uneven ground. _'It's starting to get drafty in here,'_ she thought, as she climbed onto the stiff cot in the corner of the room.

The setting of a cold, dark cell was nothing new to her. Over the course of her elongated lifespan Lal had been forced to endure such harsh conditions on countless occasions. Her time as a prisoner of war has brought as much pain and horror as it did lifelong survival tactics. In fact, the Vindice, she felt, were actually quite hospitable, given the circumstances of her , she thought, was nothing.

She leaned against the wall, thinking about the recent turn of events. This of all things was certainly not what she normally expected of her missions. What had gone wrong? She had flown in from Canada not even three days before the Vindice came to arrest her. Lal had done only what she was ordered to do: enter the Canadian bar, make some observations about a certain tattooed Italian, take a few pictures, and leave. That was all. Altogether, she thought it was the most pointless of trips she had had to make, and Canada was much too cold for her liking. She never imagined something like this would happen.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud buzz sounded over the cell. Lal looked up to find the masked guard who had locked her in the cell. The man slid a key through the lock on the rusty bars. "Stand up," his deep voice ordered, the command echoing through the musty walls.

Lal complied. The guard cuffed Lal's hands behind her back. He pulled out a black bag from under his cloak, and slid it over her head. He tightened the drawstring at her neck. _'What's going on?'_ Lal thought, _'Am I...are they going to…?'_ The guard led her out of the cell and down the long, dark corridors. She treaded cautiously as the Vindice guardsman guided her blinded form. _'They haven't even conducted a trial! Hell, I don't even know why I'm here!'_

Finally the two stopped at a doorway, not saying anything for a minute, before the guard loosened the black bag and pulled it off Lal's head. After uncuffing her, the guard breathed, "Bermuda sends his regards," before quickly disappearing down the dark corridor.

Lal was stunned. _'Well, that was uncalled for,'_ she thought, before quickly coming to her senses. She rested her hand on the doorknob, growing tense as she cautiously turned it and slowly pushed the door open.

The room was musty and dark, much like a bigger version of her cell, but with walls of silver steel. It was much colder here, the chills sending goosebumps down her arms as she shivered. It was almost empty; a table was carefully placed at the center, the room's only lightsource dangling carelessly above. There were four plastic chairs surrounding the small table. Three of them were occupied.

At first Lal couldn't see their faces. As she approached, the tallest figure turned his head slowly. "Welcome, Lal Mirch, to our evil lair," the figure grinned, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously, his face casting a shadow under the light. Lal froze, creasing her eyebrows in confusion.

"Oyakata-sama, what _are_ you doing?" the slender figure chided, tossing back her long hair. "Someone could hear us."

'_Oyakata…sama?'_ Lal thought.

"Now, now, Oregano, one can't be serious forever and hope to change anything," the tallest figure said.

The man turned, bringing his face from out of the flickering light. "Iemitsu!" Lal exclaimed.

"Hello, Lal," Iemitsu smiled, "You seem to be well."

"I-What is going on?"

"We're all wondering that ourselves," the third figure replied, and as Lal walked over she could see Turmeric's face come into view. "The cheap little wise-ass here wouldn't talk until we were..." he leaned in, "Get this: alone." He laughed. "Since when is the CEDEF ever alone?"

"I _figured_ since we're kinda already in jail," Iemitsu grinned, "Maybe things could be different for once."

Lal looked at the both of them, before turning to Oregano, "Is this guy really my boss?"

Oregano shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder that too."

Iemitsu smiled. "Well, there was actually a reason why I needed the four of us in one place." He leaned back, propping his feet on the table.

"In a cold, dark walk-in freezer?" Lal queried.

"I was desperate, and this was all the Vindice were willing to deal me." Iemitsu's eyes darkened. "Now, let's get down to business."

The four agents became situated, their faces casting shadows under the light as they discussed.

"So, I did some thinking while sitting around in that dusty old cell," he began, "And I have come to several conclusions. All based solely on theory, of course, but I have a gut feeling that this one's right on the money."

Turmeric snorted. "And of course you would know all about being 'right on the money', huh?"

"Turmeric, now is not the time," Oregano chided while Iemitsu grinned.

"_Anyways_, so I did some thinking, and I think I might know what this is about. Lal, pay attention, because this has to do with you, specifically your last assignment in the field."

Lal blinked. "You mean that pointless trip to Canada?"

"It wasn't _that_ pointless. Anyways, do you recall the individual I asked you to monitor?"

"Yeah. What about him? You never did tell me who he was."

Iemitsu stood up. "That mystery man is the whole reason we're in this mess."

"Why? What happened? Did I make a mistake?"

Turmeric chuckled. "Nah, I don't think so. 'Lal Mirch' and 'mistake' in the same sentence? I think not."

"True, that," Oregano agreed.

Iemitsu gave the group a knowing smile. "You three, no, you _four_, are my pride and joy. Never have I had a more reliable team. No, this is no one's fault."

He began to pace about the room. "To put it bluntly, Lal, apparently the man I asked you to monitor...well, he's dead."

"...What?"

"You heard me."

"...Well, I assume there is more to the story than that?"

He looked at her. "Apparently this man is dead, and, well...you may have killed him."

Silence. "I _what?_"

"She _what?_" Turmeric and Oregano asked in disbelief.

"That's what the guards are telling me. They found him behind the counter at the bar you were watching him at, after closing hours," Iemitsu stared intently into Lal's eyes, "And they found your DNA. All. Over. The body."

"Wha…!" Lal abruptly stood up, knocking the chair over. "But I never laid a finger on him! I-I didn't even know who he wa-"

"The CEDEF has never really dealt exclusively with Canadian mafia, so I don't know who decided to file charges, and with the Vindice, for god's sake." He trailed off. "They usually take it up with the bosses, though..."

Lal wasn't listening. "My goddamn _DNA_-"

"Listen, the Vindice cut a deal with us here, so I don't have much time." He leaned in closer, staring intently into her eyes. "Lal, I want you to tell me the truth. Did you, or did you not, kill this man?"

"B-but, Oyakata-sama!" Oregano objected, "Obviously someone set Lal up!"

"Yeah," Turmeric chimed in, "We all know Lal well. There is no way she did what they say she di-"

"Iemitsu," Lal firmly interrupted, silencing her colleagues with a look. "I am telling you; I didn't even know the man. My answer stands. I did not kill anyone that day, or anytime during the mission in Canada."

"Then the truth stands," he concluded. "Lal Mirch is innocent. But if this guy turned up dead, obviously someone is _not_. And that someone," he turned to Lal, "Found that you were in that bar, and thought it was the perfect opportunity."

Lal bowed her head, face reddening in shame. "I-I am sorry. This is completely inexcusable, but I.." She trailed off. "What kind of DNA did they find?"

"The guard wouldn't say, but since we don't know much of anything with this case, then we should proceed with caution, and gain as much favor with the Vindice as possible."

He circled the table until he faced the three agents. "That means I want your full cooperation with the proceedings. Lal, I want your complete focus here. I know this might be difficult to wrap your head around, but we cannot afford to stray from the main target here. Oregano, Turmeric, this applies to you as well."

"Yes, sir!" The three gave a brisk salute.

"Now, we haven't been completely forgotten. Did you guys happen to catch Basil?"

"Oh, yeah!" Turmeric exclaimed. "I saw him peeking out of the crowd. Poor kid."

"I told him to run," Lal said. "My best guess is that he probably went to Japan."

"Do you think he went all the way to Namimori?" Oregano asked incredulously. "Japan is far."

"I'm sure Basil made it," Iemitsu smiled. "He's a sharp kid. Regardless, I think our fates once again rest on the allies whom we fought side by side with."

"Our allies, huh?"

A buzz faintly sounded, and the door in the dark corner slid open. The four stood up as the guard who had escorted Lal walked in. "Time's up," he rasped. "You may go back to your cell."

As the four left the room, the light in the center slowly dimmed until the room was blanketed in darkness. Lal barely caught Iemitsu's last words, as he muttered to the guard, "Give Bermuda my regards."

The guard nodded, before locking the door, and once again disappeared quietly down the hallway. As Lal walked the other way, the guard began to whistle. The obscure tunes reverberated eerily throughout the empty corridors, and by the time Lal had gone back to her cell it had already stopped.

-x-

-x-

**I would like to thank you so far for supporting me. This is my first fanfiction, and I am so glad you guys are liking it so far!**

**If you haven't noticed, I tend to progress a tad slowly on the plot, but (much like KHR itself) I promise you faster-paced plots in the near future!**

**Credit to SENPAI for being the best beta; check out her tumblr by visiting my profile!**

**- Kouhai**

**Ah, for reference: a _consigliere_ is an adviser, _especially to a crime boss._**


End file.
